


Forbearance

by InsanelyYours96



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Neji Hyuuga Self-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanelyYours96/pseuds/InsanelyYours96
Summary: Reborn as Neji, she fights tooth and nail against the story line, cursed seal, and Gai's idea of fashion.





	Forbearance

When I woke it was to the sight of father hunched over my cot. That alone was strange, as Hizashi was extremely conscious of his posture and typically brought me into his arms rather than leaning over. Yet the true cause for concern was his irregular breathing and how he didn’t spare me a glance even as I strained and wiggled.

Hizashi was highly observant, and hyper aware of my movements to boot. Him ignoring me was clear sign that something was amiss.

Maybe he was hurt?

The notion was enough to make me test my developing muscles. I pressed my hands to the cot and used all my strength to push myself into a sitting position. I wobbled, and for a heart-stopping second I was certain that I would fall back, but in the end my two planted hands were enough stabilization to keep me upright.

I smiled. I was sitting up by myself for the first time.

My sense of accomplishment dimmed when Hizashi still did not look. I reached out, my hand tangling in his hair instead of pressing to his face as I had intended. Vacant eyes turned to me and I squeaked in surprise at the tears I found there.

Despite the relatively short time I had known him, I recognized that my new father was a stoic man. The only time I had ever seen him smile was the first time I grinned at him, and even then it had been brief.

 _What’s wrong_ , I wanted to ask, but of course all that came out was a gurgle.

Hizashi looked at me in blank surprise, as if he had only just realized I was there at all, and then his face seemed to crumple.

“I’m sorry, my son,” he whispered, gently untangling my hand from his hair. The closer he leaned the clearer the wet streaks on his cheeks became. I whimpered my concern. He pulled me close, and I automatically pressed my ear to his chest, eager to hear the steady beat of his heart and assure myself that he was all right. “I love you.”

This was the first time I could ever remember him putting his feelings towards me into words, and I felt a jolt of glee at the proclamation. Still, his voice was soft and sad. Something had reduced him to this state - reduced him to _tears_.

A part of me had already deduced that there was really only one thing Hizashi loved enough to leave him in this state. The tears that sprung, then, were those of both realization and denial.

Hizashi rubbed my back gently but did not try to hush my sobs as he was wont to do. His next words were strong and sure, with the cadence of a vow.

“I will protect you, Neji. I will care for you twice as much, and devote myself to you wholly. You are my precious Hisana’s legacy, and for the both of us I will love you.”

This was how I discovered that the woman who had fed, changed, and loved me unconditionally was gone from our lives forever, a meager five months after I first met her. Hyuuga Neji’s mother was dead, and one day his father would die as well. _My_ father.

I was an orphan waiting to happen, and it was all I could do to curl tighter into Hizashi’s arms and pretend that the foundations of my world weren’t crumbling for the second time since my rebirth.

* * *

In the days to come I would learn that mum had returned to active duty by order of the Hokage, that she had been killed in action during the course of her service, and that they had been unable to recover her body. I would sit still and silent beside Hizashi and watch as _Hyuuga Hisana_ was chiseled into the memorial stone. I would see a nondescript shinobi hand father a cracked mask, bow, and vanish. I would refuse to eat from another woman’s breast and only choke down strained carrots when Hizashi’s orders to eat changed to pleads.  

Every moment that I was awake that week, Hizashi was by my side.

As family members passed through with food and condolences, each of them suggested he hire help. They acted as though he wasn’t competent enough to raise his own child, and suggested he do what was best for me.

I didn’t understand why our own clan seemed so set against believing that Hizashi could care for me. He was a wonderful and attentive father, even before mum died. They had cared for me in equal parts, and yet our own family seemed determined to devalue that.

On the second week, Hizashi was called away and left me in the care of one of my cousins. I had just woken from my second bout of unintentional rest when she picked me up and said, “Let’s take you to your mommy.”

For a moment I thought, _oh_. They had made a mistake after all. Hisana was alive, and I was about to see her again.

Then the teenager held me out to my aunt and woodenly proclaimed, “This is your mommy now.”

At first, I knew only incomprehension.

My _what_? Himawari was Hiashi’s wife. My _aunt_.

Then rage.

How _dare_ this stupid girl try and replace Hisana like this? I was a babe, helpless in every way, and could do nothing to argue.

I don’t know what expression I had on my face, but Himawari sighed, “Oh Neji-chan,” and pulled me into her arms, rocking me back and forth.

I screamed like a dying cat. I caterwauled and wailed and squirmed, trying to escape her grasp. Did she truly believe she could replace Hisana? Replace gentle lullabies and a sedate heartbeat and the scent of safety?

It took time, but eventually hints of words broke through. “Sorry… be with your father soon… it’s okay, Neji-chan…”

I gave her no reprieve, even as the stream of words slowly started to make sense to me. She would be returning me to Hizashi, but I wanted further insurance that she would never _dare_ let somebody attempt such a thing again. Intellectually, she wouldn’t know that I understood anything (beyond perhaps the word ‘mommy,’) and thus would just think I disliked her.

Which, at that moment, was true.

After being unable to soothe my tantrum, Hizashi was fetched. He returned in short order, lifting me from Himawari’s arms after a few respectful words. I calmed the moment he held me, and perhaps I was being passive aggressive, but I _was_ a child. I could behave as immaturely as I liked.

I had made my own head ache with the incessant crying, but the discomfort was a small price to make sure this wasn’t a recurring event.

After returning to the safety of our rooms, father called back my watcher and placed me in the crib.

That was the first time I ever saw Hizashi angry enough to physically lash out at somebody.

It would not be the last.

* * *

 Later I would learn that Hiashi’s wife had been unable to carry a child to term. Being his closest blood relative, born to his twin, I was considered an adequate replacement by the Elders - if only Hizashi would hand me over and cease all contact.

Naturally, he was unwilling. Later, I would become cognizant of the fact that he could have been murdered for his refusal. I would be grateful to have him for a while yet.

Luckily the point became moot before any drastic steps were taken. Ten months into my new life it was announced that Himawari had fallen pregnant.

I was nearly eighteen months old by the time Hinata was born.

I could walk by that point, and was rarely held by Hizashi any longer. The newfound independence was a relief, but I found myself missing the human contact. On the day of Hinata’s birth he held me for the first time in weeks, lifting me to see my newborn cousin.

She was small, with scrunched up red features and wisps of dark hair.

It was bizarre, looking at her and knowing who she would grow into. She seemed tiny and insignificant, but this was the future wife of Naruto, a teenager who had faced down Pein even knowing she would die. Who was too big-hearted for our clan, who loved too hard without needing an ounce of affection in return.

I wanted to protect that. I wanted to _help her_.

But what could one eighteen month child do, beyond swear to never loathe her as my counterpart had?

I made a low cooing noise and brushed her hair back gently. “Hina,” I murmured, grinning at the babe.

“Our future clan head,” Hiashi chimed in, and I flinched back in surprise, meeting his eyes. His face was identical to my father’s, allowing me to see the vague signs of relief and happiness it housed. “You shall protect her with your life, Neji.”

Hizashi’s arms stiffened around me, but I didn’t hesitate. I knew what it meant to be in the branch family. I knew what it meant to be Neji.

I would be branded. I would be stripped of some of the most basic human rights I had clung to in my previous life. I nodded, and it was easy to find a smile for the man who wore my father’s face.

“Aa.”

* * *

When I was two years old my training began in earnest.

It had always been clear to me that ninja did not coddle their children, but I had hardly expected this.

I was tasked with sticking a leaf to my forehead. If I maintained it I could eat dinner. If I didn't my food would be taken away. I only got three bites of my birthday katsudon before my chakra faltered and the leaf drifted down to land on top of the pork cutlet.

Father shook his head, sighed, and took away my favorite dish.

Let this be said for the Hyuuga: they knew how to motivate you, and hunger was a strong motivator. This body was used to three meals a day, and needed it to maintain energy.

I was given breakfast and lunch, but each night I would only get a few bites of dinner before my control faltered. And with it, of course, the leaf.

I began spending my days focusing on multitasking, but that only led to me having exhausted too much chakra to complete the exercise at all and being sent to bed sans dinner.

Hizashi didn't seem to have any sympathy, but I understood that the ninja world was a cold and cruel place to live. This was just one of many subtle ways I was prepared for what was to come.

Of course, that didn’t mean I liked it.

I’ve always been a stubborn person, and I hated to fail. Failure isn’t something people aspire to, but I took it especially hard.

It took just over two weeks of practice before I could get my chakra to remain stable for the entire meal.

I looked up in time to spot Hizashi hide a smile behind his teacup.

After that, the training hardly eased off. There was a day of reprieve, and then _another leaf_ was placed before me.

The true meaning of the exercise hit me that night, holding both leaves on my forehead with sweat beading at my temples. I met father’s featureless eyes, no longer odd after seeing them everyday, all around me, and had a shock of insight. I was learning to manipulate chakra just above my eyes.

This… was the first step to the Byakugan.

My mouth fell open and I felt like ramming my head against the table for my stupidity. It seemed so obvious, looking back. Instead, two leaves drifted into my miso soup.

Hizashi raised a brow. “I expected longer,” he said, though his tone was hardly harsh.

“Father… you’re training me for our kekkei genkai?”

There was a moment of stillness, and then he inclined his head. “This is how all Hyuuga are taught, though usually we do not begin such lessons until the child is four. You have impressed me with your ability, son. I am… proud.”

I beamed at the unusual declaration, pushed away my food, and returned the leaves to my forehead. “I lost con-sen-tration,” I said. “But I’ll hold them until you’re done eating!”

Hizashi nodded. When he spoke, his tone was suffused with warmth.

“Very well.”

* * *

Growing fond of Hizashi had been inevitable.

He was a very good father. Perhaps he was more stern than any parent I had before, and he certainly didn’t show his emotions easily, but he held me. He changed me. He helped me through the grief of Hisana’s death, and vowed to protect me.

But I was a realist at heart, so of course I thought of the future. Especially after Hinata’s birth, because it meant...

It meant Hizashi was going to die.

Sometimes it was hard to breathe past this thought. I had never been an orphan before.

I was  _terrified_ of losing the only solid connection I had made in this world. Of losing somebody I loved.

How much loss could one person handle?

Hizashi was going to die. His life would be sacrificed in place of the clan head’s.

But when? How long did I have with my father?

Four years? Five? Hinata’s attempted kidnapping had occurred when she was relatively young… but how young?

My thoughts ran in circles. I didn’t remember, never having taken a very strong interest in the Hyuuga. It was hopeless - I was just working myself up needlessly.

I needed to be strong. Stronger than the canon Neji, who had been lauded as a genius and was still dead at seventeen.

But would I ever grow strong enough to stop _this_?

It seemed impossible. I wasn’t a ninja, I was a civilian. I was _weak_. A child. I couldn’t even hold two leafs to my forehead for more than twelve minutes, nevertheless stop a foreign nin.

Anxiety built and built. It was like acid in my throat, poisoning my thoughts, making my breath come too quickly.

There was a reason I only bothered entertaining such thoughts in the dead of night.

The shadows would keep my secrets.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be boy/boy slash eventually, I'm just not sure of the pairing. 
> 
> Please leave a review on your way out.


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